


Magnetism

by TheSupernova



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Denial, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2575190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSupernova/pseuds/TheSupernova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't understand his feelings. He can't...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnetism

_When did it all go wrong?_

By ‘all go wrong’, he obviously meant ‘when did I fall for _him_?’

Perhaps somewhere in the haze of warm and affection that seemed to radiate from him whenever he stepped into a room, as though the sun was suddenly shining through the window, filling every space with light and casting shadows aside until everything was bright and still. That would be perfect, to fall in love in the security of an embrace, with arms wrapped around you and never once doubting the sincerity of foreign words whispered in your ears during the calm nights.

It would be simple, easy. That is, if the one he loved wasn’t someone impossible. If he hadn’t fallen in love with another _he_.

Sometimes he could forgive himself. On the nights when thunder rolled across the sky, booming in time with the shaking of the entire house and it was all he could do to seek comfort in the form of a warm body. As lightning flashed across the countryside he could believe it was alright, at least for that moment, to find himself wrapped in strong, lean arms as his chestnut hair was gently smoothed down.

Other times, he hated himself. The scars on his knuckles, glass embedded in his hands from a shattered mirror. Those days, he couldn’t even stand his own reflection. And _he_ would never understand, _couldn’t_ understand why the glass was scattered across the floor and blood dripped to pool on the floor in scarlet puddles while he sat there, unmoving, unfeeling as he dragged him to his feet, out from the bathroom.

To his credit, he never asked. Though the question must have burned, he never once asked.

His days were a careful balance of attraction and repulsion. Never was there anything in between the two extremes, which was neither a blessing nor a curse. It was simply a fact.

Yes, Romano loved Spain. But he hated himself for it.


End file.
